


Shadows of Dathomir

by Artemis1000



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dathomir, F/F, Nightsisters (Star Wars), Padmé Amidala Lives, Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2019-01-20 06:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12426678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/pseuds/Artemis1000
Summary: Hunted by the Emperor, Padmé Amidala needs a sanctuary for herself and her newborn twins. Asajj Ventress is an unlikely protector and Dathomir an even more unlikely sanctuary, but beggars can't be choosers. It's a sensible arrangement. Padmé certainly hadn't expected that she would evercareso much.





	Shadows of Dathomir

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NeurotropicAgentX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeurotropicAgentX/gifts).



> Thank you for the wonderful prompts you gave, I had the hardest time choosing and thus ended up combining several ones. This takes place in a verse in which the Nightsisters had not been wholly wiped out by Dooku. Anakin dies on Mustafar.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this fic and happy exchanging!

When Padmé Amidala returned to her guest quarters, Asajj Ventress was reclining in her armchair. She looked the very picture of supreme boredom as she inspected her nails.

Padme straightened her spine and raised her head high. She may still have been weak, too easily out of breath, too wobbly on her legs, not even speaking of the grief choking her, but she knew better than to show vulnerability in front of Ventress. She certainly knew better than to show her sheer overwhelming relief that she’d answered her call at all.

“Some people believe in knocking,” she remarked as she sat down on the couch across from Ventress, one leg delicately draped over the other as if she weren’t still sore from her difficult birth.

She may not have been alarmed by the bounty hunter’s presence, but she’s glad all the same that the twins remained in medbay for another day. It had been a mere thinly veiled excuse to get her to rest, now she’s grateful they were well outside her reach. Not that much was outside the reach of Count Dooku’s former assassin. That was why Padmé had called for her.

Ventress’s eyes were sharp and attentive as she took in her state, beyond doubt she could pinpoint every flaw in her façade. She managed to look bored anyway. “What do you need me for, Amidala?” She leaned forward. “Got any more people for me to kill?”

 _An Emperor_ , Padmé thought immediately. She chose not to insist that she had only ever hired Ventress as a bounty hunter, not as an assassin.

“No.” She hesitated for a moment before she steeled herself. It’s the only way. “I have two Force-sensitive children in medbay and a Sith Lord eager to get his hands on them after Obi-Wan Kenobi killed his chosen Apprentice on Mustafar. The Jedi can’t hide all three of us in the same place.”

For the first time, Ventress’s confident façade wavered. “What do you want from me?” she asked sharply as she rose to her feet. “If you’re trying to rope me into playing nannybot, don’t bother.” She shot Padmé a scathing look. “I’m leaving.”

Padmé felt her heartbeat echoed in her ears. Master Yoda wasn’t pleased with her plan. He would be even less pleased if she went through with it. Kriff, it wasn’t like _she_ was pleased to place herself right back into the hands of the Dark Side after it took everything from her on Mustafar.

Fact was, they had all to suffer unpleasantries in desperate times. It was this thought she clung to as she straightened her back and held her head high while asking for an impossible favor.

“I need sanctuary on a planet so rife with Force users that two more will go unnoticed.”

Padmé exhaled. There. It was said. Ventress would not respect her for pleasantries or evasions.

Ventress sneered at her, and her determination gained a few cracks. “Didn’t you hear? Your Jedi friends are being hunted down all over the galaxy.”

It took all Padmé had to force down her fury, her indignation and the sheer overwhelming pain at all these lives – beloved lives, bright and hopeful lives – lost to a single evil man’s slaughter. The pain could have been enough to make her scream. She dug her nails into the soft flesh of her palms. She wasn’t going to scream, there was no time to waste on screams when she had work to do.

“I know,” was all she said, head still held high.

She waited with barely faked patience. Ventress was clever. She would figure it out.

It took her a little longer than Padmé expected, but when she caught on her attempts to hide her surprise was well worth the wait.

“Count Dooku wiped out the witches of Dathomir.” Her voice was just tense now, no longer angry. She sat back down, but she didn’t lounge.

“He wiped out one colony of Nightsisters. Yours.” Silence fell. Padmé leaned forward. “Dooku worked for the Sith Lord. He worked for Palpatine. Don’t you want to help me deny him what he wants most in the galaxy? The one thing that stands between him and complete victory?”

Padmé read the answer in Ventress’s eyes long before she spoke. It was what her entire plan had relied on.

It felt like a hollow victory but these days Padmé Amidala would take whatever victory she could get.

 

Life on Dathomir was harsh. The Nightsisters had no love for the Republic or Naboo or anything that Padmé stood for, and keeping Luke when they insisted on sending him to the Nightbrothers was a battle that took all her cunning and willpower.

She had won, of course. She had lost too much to accept defeat gracefully.

Ventress stayed for a week before she left Padmé to her fate – or as she put it, to make her own fate. On Dathomir, they didn’t believe in fostering weakness, she said when Padmé looked stricken.

It was a good thing that showing strength in the face of adversity had always come easily to Padmé.

 

“I thought you had forgotten about me,” slipped out of Padmé’s mouth before she could stop herself. It was more truth than Ventress deserved after her long absence.

Ventress looked at her quizzically. “Oh really?”

Padmé’s hands balled into fists at her sides. She took a deep breath. She wouldn’t snap or scream. Ventress didn’t deserve to know how deeply her absence had affected her.

“Half a year of not knowing if you’re ever going to return, if you’re even still alive. It makes a woman wonder.”

She shouldn’t be furious. She knew she had no right to be furious, that she had no claim on Ventress’s time or attention, and least of all on her care. Yet all that knowledge did nothing against the fury welling up inside her, it never had during these long six months.

She sized up Asajj Ventress, who stood in front of her door looking a little bit thinner, a little bit more tired than she had left and still bearing the scrapes of bounty hunter life, yet completely unruffled by Padmé’s anger, and that only fanned the flames of her ire to flare higher.

“You never before needed anyone to hold your hand, Senator,” Ventress sneered as she brushed past Padmé, stalking into her humble home as if she owned it.

Padmé gritted her teeth against her frustration. Cordiality was a little bit beyond her right now, so she kept her hands clenched into fists at her sides. She would until the urge to reach for her blaster had passed.

She followed Ventress to the nursery.

Her home was small and serviceable, simplistic furniture, the bare minimum of everything. It was a constant reminder that she was tolerated on Dathomor for the favors Ventress owed her, and this clan owed Ventress. Nobody here cared to show hospitability to the senator of a fallen Republic.

“They are bright in the Force.”

Padmé made the conscious decision to stay by the door.

She couldn’t put herself between Ventress and the children, wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of admitting that she was aware of the danger she posed, that with every day Ventress had stayed away she had wondered more how much longer until she decided to sell her out. If she decided to act, Padmé would stand a better chance from this position anyway.

“They are. But the Mother says they remain sheltered.”

Ventress turned on her heel. Her eyes found Padmé’s, transfixed on hers. Her head tilted to the side. “How do you like your exile then, Senator Amidala? Do you like hiding away in the swamps of Dathomir while the Emperor is hunting down your friends like scurrying rats?”

She was stalking towards her. Padmé dug in her heels and stood her ground. Her nails dug into the soft skin of her palms, much like it had when she first asked Ventress for help on Bail Organa’s ship.

“How do you like being one of the scurrying rats?”

She drew her lightsabers faster than Padmé could blink. They were twin sabers just like the ones she had used while she was Dooku’s assassin, but these weapons were blue like a Jedi’s. Stolen weapons, for sure, there had to be a lot of orphaned lightsabers in the galaxy these days.

Padmé did not blink when the blades buzzed so close against her neck that her animal brain told her she could feel the heat, though she knew lightsabers didn’t even burn hot.

She held Ventress’s gaze, unflinching, and felt cold. Maybe there simply came a point when you had faced death too often and grew numb to it.

“I’m in hiding. I’m not idle.”

The crossed lightsabers came a little bit closer to Padmé’s neck. She gulped and could almost feel them hum against her skin.

“And what is it you do from hiding, Amidala?” Ventress sneered. “Write pretty speeches like the ones nobody ever listened to in the Senate?”

She felt aware of herself, clad in sensible clothes to traverse through Dathomir’s swamps, her hair unbound and snarled from when Leia had played with it. She may have been a far cry from the Senator of Naboo whose name had been a rallying cry and even farther from the Queen, but she felt the same iron will in her core. Some people, they said, broke under tragedy. She might have buckled, but she hadn’t broken yet.

Padmé raised her head higher and reminded herself that she had _survived_. That was a victory in itself.

“Amidala died with the Republic,” she said. “My name is Naberrie.”

Ventress’s eyes narrowed. They were unreadable to Padmé, all she could do was hold her breath and wait. There would be no time to draw her blaster if she chose to strike.

Ventress snorted and yanked her lightsabers away. She hooked them back to her belt and brushed past Padmé. “Names don’t save anyone.”

Padmé exhaled.

“If names had no power, you wouldn’t keep throwing mine in my face!” she called after Ventress.

She didn’t get an answer, but much like her continued survival, she considered it a victory anyway.

 

When Padmé inquired after Ventress the next day, she was informed she had left again.

She’d left a data package with the Mother for her.

On the secure channel she rarely dared to use, Padmé sent Bail Organa a list of bounty hunters and assassins who might be convinced to take up arms against the Empire.

She added Asajj Ventress’s name to the list and annotated it with _leave it to me_.

 

Ventress returned sooner the next time and this time, she didn’t walk out on Padmé just as soon as she had arrived.

Padmé tried to rejoice in the information she brought and not in her scathing wit or the sharp eyes that would track her every movement while they practiced hand-to-hand combat.

The next time, Ventress brought the same.

The third time, Padmé permitted herself to be happy for her company and not just for the secrets she brought.

That didn’t mean that their reunions were peaceful.

“You’re naïve,” Ventress would spit whenever Padmé brought up the fledgling Rebel Alliance, “You can’t save the galaxy. It doesn’t want to be saved.”

“Then why are you helping me?” Padmé liked to respond, her face schooled into a mask of innocent curiosity.

Ventress never had a satisfying answer for her.

That was alright. Padmé didn’t have any answers for her either.

 

Under the greenish light of Dathomir’s magic, Padmé Amidala rebuilt herself piece by piece to the woman she had been before and would be once more – Padmé, just Padmé, Padmé Naberrie who was no Queen and no Senator, for such titles had become shams under the Emperor’s tyranny, but who still stood defiant.

And she waited.

“If there’s one thing Palpatine has taught me,” she told Ventress one day after sparring, as they trudged through Dathomir’s mist-covered forests on the way back to her home and children, “then it’s the value of biding your time.”

“Are we no longer railing at every injustice in the galaxy, Senator?” Ventress sneered.

“I’ve seen where blind anger leads us,” she said, her throat feeling tight with emotion. On most days, she had her grief well in hand. And then these moments happened when it hit just her all at once all over again and…

Ventress’s arm brushed against hers.

Padmé’s steps faltered. She turned her head towards her, but Ventress kept looking straight ahead as if nothing had happened. “I’ve lost too much to be reckless. But I’ve gained a lot, too.”

 

Today, as they stood guard over Luke and Leia taking wobbly steps on a clearing, Padmé felt leaden.

Her eyes kept straying to Ventress, she would open her mouth to speak, but nothing but meaningless prattle ever escaped her.

She had returned two days ago and would be leaving again tomorrow. There was no time left for hesitation, yet she kept hesitating anyway.

It wasn’t like her not to try at all for fear of failing, Padmé reminded herself. But then again, in politics, the stakes hadn’t been quite so personal. The rejections hadn’t been quite so personal.

Ventress snorted in amusement when Leia’s little fist hit Luke and made him wail in protest. When Padmé didn’t react at all, she frowned, then growled low under her breath. “Are you ever going to say what this is about, _Naberrie_?”

Well. So much for hesitation.

“The rebellion needs to ask a favor from you.”

“Does it?” She sounded bored.

Padmé exhaled. “I need to ask a favor from you.”

“I thought that’s what you have been doing all along.”

She had, of course, she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for a favor asked, so Padmé didn’t protest it. The mem-stick felt heavy where it rested in the left breast pocket of her vest, right over her heart.

“It’s a different kind of favor.”

Ventress had shared much with Padmé, but she had only ever shared of her own volition. Padmé had never dared nor been inclined to ask more of her. Their regard felt too tentative, and far too precious to muddle it with asking more of her than she was willing to give.

“I’m not one of your little rebels. I don’t care to save the galaxy.”

“Then do it for me?”

The words were out before Padmé could even think to censor herself, and now all she could do was watch as Ventress’s eyes widened, then narrowed in angry suspicion. All she could do was wait and hope.

Ventress looked furious. For a moment Padmé wondered if this would finally be the day when her protector struck her down.

She reached out and plucked the mem-stick from Padmé’s pocket.

“Don’t you dare thank me for it,” she sneered.

Padmé exhaled. She felt the lead flow away from her limbs. “I won’t… Asajj.”

 

Beyond Dathomir, the Empire’s stranglehold on the galaxy tightened.

On Dathomir, the witches celebrated their second Winterfest since Padmé had come to their world. On this day when even estranged members of the clan sent presents to the children, Padmé always missed her family on Naboo so much that her heart broke all over again. They still believed her dead, only a handful of confidantes within the budding rebellion knew that she had survived.

It was time, she realized as she scrolled through lists of rumors and troop movements and Senate bills that were steadily stripping the Senate of what little power it had left. She had known it for a good long while, but she’d been sufficiently caught up in her day-to-day struggles that she could pretend she was content with what little she could do from Dathomir.

That she was content waiting for Asajj to return every now and then bearing grim news before she disappeared again, leaving Padmé to wait and worry and wonder if this time she wouldn’t return.

Everything in her life revolved around waiting these days.

“I can’t hide here any longer,” Padmé told Asajj, who had not brought toys or sweets this Winterfest but had gifted Padmé with the most precious present of all – her company.

She lowered the datapad she had been studying, filled to the brim with information Asajj had gathered in the galaxy at large.

On the couch, Asajj sat close enough that their shoulders almost brushed. Like everything in Padmé’s life, the tension between them remained in an eternal limbo of waiting for a right moment that never came.

Padmé exhaled loudly. Her hands tightened around the datapad. She was so tired of waiting.

“What about Darth Sidious and the children?” Asajj asked. She was so careful to appear bored from the relaxed posture to the bored drawl of her scornful voice.

Padmé’s heart picked up speed. So much for getting to beat about the bushes. Even when she pretended to be unaffected, Asajj still cut to the heart of the matter like no other. “The risk will be higher. But they will be a lot safer in a galaxy at peace than forever hiding from the Empire.”

Asajj stiffened, perfectly poised as if she were ready to strike. “You will be hunted.”

“I know.” She let a heartbeat pass. “But I won’t be without allies, will I?”

Asajj’s head swiveled to her. “I told you before, I’m not going to help your rebels!”

“But I will!” Padmé huffed, standing up, still wielding the datapad as if it were a weapon. “I won’t stand by and let the galaxy be enslaved! I can’t stand by and watch, and neither can you!”

“ _Watch me_ ,” Asajj snarled right back.

“I’ve never taken you for a coward, Ventress!”

Now she leaped to her feet as well, looking just as furious as Padmé felt. “The galaxy’s never done anything for me!” She bared her teeth at Padmé. “You think anyone out there cares about your high and mighty Nabooian ideals? That anybody will hail you a savior? You’re just going to get yourself killed!”

She stood toe to toe with her. Padmé found she didn’t fear her anger anymore, it made her eyes shine bright in her pale face and there was an unique beauty to the tension that thrummed through her battle-ready body. Yet lovely as she was, strong-willed and fierce as she may be, it couldn’t be enough to make Padmé back down.

“And if that’s what it takes, I will!” she snapped as she thrust the datapad full of good reasons to fight at Asajj.

“You…!” She looked stricken, as if the lengths Padmé would go to for her convictions had never crossed her mind.

Padmé held her burning gaze. “I what?!”

Asajj growled. She looked like she would have liked to pierce Padmé with her lightsabers just as long as it made her shut up.

She didn’t flinch, didn’t back away. She had no intention of shutting up anymore. “I’m tired of soothing my outrage. I’m tired of telling myself _tomorrow_. Of pretending the injustices we suffer today are not harm enough just because we somehow find the strength to endure,” she said, her voice quiet at the start, but growing louder as her conviction grew with every word. “I’m not going to meekly wait for the day we can’t take it anymore!”

Facing Asajj was not so different from speaking in the Senate – the stakes no lower, but infinitely more personal. Her hand didn’t shake as she reached blindly for Asajj’s, but that was not for lack of nervousness, just for a Queen’s perfected poise.

Asajj’s fingers did twitch when Padmé’s touched hers. Her hands were rough and calloused, their grip firm when she grasped her and held on for dear life.

“I’m not asking you to believe in the Republic. I’m asking you to believe in me, Asajj.” Padmé, too, held on tight. Nowhere to go but forward. Take the plunge. “To believe in _us_.”

She reared back, but Padmé had expected it. She held on tight and yanked Asajj close again when she tried to yank away and then she was drawing closer, pressing her lips against Asajj’s.

Her lips were thin and cold. She froze against Padmé and made a noise somewhere between pained and furious right before she pressed hard into the kiss.

Padmè gasped, her free hand went up to cradle the back of Asajj’s smooth skull and keep her close as her tongue slid into her mouth.

They kissed as they fought – no quarter given.

Padmé came out of the kiss laughing, breathless and dizzy and feeling the most alive she had been since she came to Dathomir.

“Come with me,” she gasped. “You and me.”

Asajj’s eyes gleamed. “We will take our revenge.”

It wasn’t revenge Padmé sought – except maybe deep, deep in her heart, where she did not like to look – but it was close enough.

“We’ll bring down the Emperor,” she said.

Their eyes met.

Close enough.

The many unspoken words between them had thickened the air whenever they were together. Now, Padmé felt like she could finally breathe freely again. Yet she found she would rather be left breathless again.

“We should celebrate.” Interest sparked in Asajj’s eyes. Padmé grinned. “You could start by kissing me again.”


End file.
